


Different

by KaijuGhoul



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Junkrat has been sick, M/M, No porn sorry, character introspection, im sorry if it's confusing, just fluff, mentions of vomit, perspective shifts from Roadhog to Junkrat and back here and there, roadrat - Freeform, some random history things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 10:19:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11712381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaijuGhoul/pseuds/KaijuGhoul
Summary: Junkrat has been sick for days, that's different. Roadhog finds he cares. That's different too.





	Different

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing something like this in... A very long time. I'm sorry if it's a little messy and hard to follow. Please be kind of you have criticism.

Junkrat got sick a lot, Roadhog noticed.

 

It made sense he guessed, considering Junkrat was pretty thin. Sure, he wasn't dying or anything and was able to do things but... Sometimes... Sometimes Roadhog worried more than he would like to admit. Of course he didn't used to, this whole thing started as something distinctly more business-like. There wasn't room for concern or care, in the arrangement or Mako's heart even. Those sort of things... He couldn't remember the last time he felt worried or concerned or cared about someone else.

 

Right now though, as he was forced to hear all manner of gagging and coughing noises from the bathroom of this motel, those sort of things were surfacing. Roadhog could remember what these things felt like at least, just not the last time he felt them. Jamison getting sick was just something that happened, something that Mako had accepted as inevitable. Lately however its just been... Worse. Throwing up here and there was nothing, expected, but this was the third day in a row now.

 

It seemed like no matter what Junkrat ate, no matter how bland it was, his stomach would just... Reject it. He always kind of thought maybe getting the hell out of the irradiated wasteland that is Australia would help but... He's been puking his guts out for days. He doesn't know why, he doesn't get why nothing will stay down. God, he wished something would. His stomach hurt, it hurt so bad. The muscles had just had it with throwing up, and his stomach was empty to the point where he was throwing up bile at this point.

 

"Food poisoning." Roadhog's gruff and muffled voice greeted him as he stumbled out of the bathroom, the sickly Junker staring at him a few moments, uncomprehending. His brain was so scattered, like the remnants of an explosion site. He guesses that's what happens when you can't keep anything down, when you can't even drink water without immediately throwing it back up. Water was so inoffensive, and the stuff they were getting was clean even. This sucked.

 

"Whatcha mean, food poisoning?" Junkrat asked eventually, once he finally kind of got it. Even then, he still didn't really get it. He kind of stumbled towards the bed, then paused as he realized Roadhog was sitting on the bed. Should he also be on the bed? He's all sweaty and smells like vomit, he wouldn't want to sit next to himself. So he instead ends up in a chair, which while not as great as a bed feels a lot nicer than hugging the damn toilet. A sigh interrupts his thoughts, and suddenly he's being scooped up by two big arms.

 

"Food poisoning from bad food." Roadhog grumbles, as if annoyed that he had to explain it. He didn't actually care however, no matter how he sounded. He places Junkrat on the bed, then gestures wordlessly to the other's prosthetics. Neither of them know when exactly this came about just... One day Roadhog started to offer to help with them. So Junkrat nods, and allows his bodyguard to take off his arm and leg and set them gently on the table. 

 

While Roadhog is doing this, Junkrat tries to think about what he could have eaten that was bad. It would have to be something his companion hadn't also eaten, otherwise they would both be sick. "...D... Doesn't food poisoning... Y'know... Not last three damn days, mate?" His voice doesn't sound exactly like it's his, like it's coming from a different throat. It's quiet, far away, kind of like how the rest of him feels. He hears Roadhog snort, then hears a creak as Roadhog sits back on the edge of the bed.

 

"Depends." Junkrat sighs at the uninformative answer, reaching up to rub at his face a bit. He doesn't know if he cares to ask more questions, considering how poorly he feels. He's so tired too, but he's not comfortable. He's slept worst places, of course, but... Beds are supposed to be comfortable, not this lumpy thing he's laying on right now. It feels like the springs are sticking him right in the bones, and considering how thin he is maybe they are.

 

"This bed ain't worth the price... Like payin' to sleep on rocks..." He mumbles under his breath, hearing a kind of snort from Roadhog in response to it. Junkrat isn't sure if it's meant like the other is laughing at him, or if it's a sign of agreement. Despite his complaint he closes his eyes, figuring that if this is what he's got to sleep on then he'll sleep on it. Besides, he can't exactly move anywhere else without his prosthetics.

 

Then he feels those big arms again, his eyes fluttering open at the sensation of being moved. Did Roadhog decide he wanted the bed instead? Junkrat was about to ask, but then he finds himself before placed on his bodyguard's front with the other laying on his back under him. He starts to ask why, and then he thinks he gets it without having to ask. Apparently, all this time, he's been traveling with the human equivalent of a mattress.

 

"Roadie what... You bastard, why didn't ya tell me you were so comfortable..." Junkrat asks, sounding almost incredulous as he makes himself comfortable. He both hears and feels Roadhog laugh, the other's belly shaking some underneath him. He doesn't think he's heard his bodyguard laugh that much, mostly one word answers and grunts of annoyance. This is... An alien experience.

 

"Never came up." Was Roadhog's simple response, which the smaller Junker thinks he should have expected. Junkrat can't see Roadhog's face, but he would swear on his life there was a smile under that gas mask. It's weird, to think that. To be able to see it, or picture it at least. He's seen the other's face here and there, but he's never seen an expression on it other than annoyance. The thought of a smile there instead though... It makes Junkrat feel warm, like a good warm. Something in his chest, maybe.

 

Junkrat has felt it here and there, like the first time Roadhog offered to help with his prosthetics. Pulling him out of harm's way here and there, dropping reminders for food and water. When all this started there was barely any conversation between them, because Roadhog rarely spoke to him. The smaller of the two of them was always one hundred percent of the conversation, up until he was told to shove it anyway.

 

Things are definitely different now, though, or at least starting to become different. It's nice though, comforting. Junkrat has always been alone until now, aside from when he was part of the Junkers. This is different though, this is something he doesn't think he's felt since... Childhood, maybe. He can barely remember any of that, honestly. After all the horrors the Omnic Crisis put him through and the resulting aftermath, so much has happened that he just can't remember older things anymore. He can barely remember his parents...

 

"...'Rat." Roadhog's voice cuts through his thoughts, blinking and looking down at the other. He can sort of see his companion's eyes through the goggles, and he thinks he sees... Something he hasn't seen on the face or in the eyes of another person for years. Barely remembered memories of a warm smile and gaze when he was little, obscured by irradiation and carnage. The other's voice stirred a few things up too, things he can't even place or really remember, but that warmth in his chest gets stronger. He realizes it's happiness.

 

"You should rest... Try eating in the morning." Roadhog says, his voice softer than Junkrat thinks he's ever heard it. His bodyguard is a rough person, rough personality and rough voice. A harsh outlook on most things. And yet... And yet here, right now, in this moment, he's being soft. Soft as the gut he's laying on, like a pillow. This is so strange and new, but Junkrat doesn't want it to stop. He's afraid in the morning, things will be back to normal. He's so tired though, he can't stay awake much longer to bask in this.

 

"You got it... Dunno how I could stay awake when I'm so cozy..." Junkrat mumbles, yawning a little and shifting again to get comfortable. He ends up sort of hugging Roadhog with his one arm, head settled on the other's chest. This is so nice, different. Maybe different is good. What was he thinking, of course different was good. Different from Australia was good, different from the callous silence between him and Roadhog was good. The throwing up for three days, not so much. Different had some boundaries.

 

Within moments his thoughts fade, giving way to a comfortable and exhausted sleep. 

 

Roadhog doesn't fall asleep just yet, just laying there and sort of... Examining the other. He's witnessed Junkrat toss and turn with nightmares, whimpering and crying out for something to stop, for someone to help. It used to be annoying, but now it's just... Concerning. Painful to see even. This peaceful rest, this is... This is so much better. This is ideal, aside from the fact that Junkrat is sick as a dog.

 

With a sigh, Mako removes the mask from his face so he can actually see the other. This is so different to see, not bad just different... Good, he thinks. Jamison is always so twitchy, whether it's from caffeine or sleep deprivation or dietary needs. There's also the fact that Junkrat always seems to think someone is going to come out of nowhere and kill him. Roadhog doesn't think he can blame the smaller Junker, even if he wouldn't let anything happen... And he's finding that it's not just because of the money anymore.

 

With a tentative finger he smooths back some of Junkrat's hair, or at least what remains there. It never manages to grow back, since the other can't seem to keep himself away from explosions. It's usually gently smoldering with embers, but since he would rather not be at risk of setting anything in here on fire it was put out at the start of their stay. He isn't sure how Junkrat isn't completely bald yet.

 

For whatever reason he finds himself giving a gentle laugh, his hand just kind of settling on Junkrat's head. He remains like this for he doesn't know how long, waiting for something to disrupt the calm... But nothing happens. No nightmares, no one suddenly bursting in to try and collect the bounty on them. It's different... It's nice. This is all strange, but nice. There are doubts within him however, saying he shouldn't be letting his guard down, that he shouldn't be getting close to Junkrat at all. That this should all stay strictly business.

 

Mako had learned a long time ago that getting close to people was like asking fate to take them away from you. The Omnic Crisis took everything from him, and he never tried to get any of it back out of fear that it would all just be taken from him all over again. He gave himself over completely to this new life, of cold and ruthlessness... Or at least, he thought it had.

 

As he looks at Junkrat, sleeping peacefully on his belly with not a care in the world, he figures the other somehow warmed a part of him back up. Maybe he just wasn't as cold as he thought he was. Roadhog isn't sure, but he doesn't think it's bad. Still, maybe he should be cautious, take this slow. If he opens himself up too much, it might be hard to close himself off again in the event that something happens.

 

For now though, he doesn't want to think about it. He shifts to pull his mask back on, out of habit partially. The radiation had damaged his lungs too however, so the mask was better to wear than not wear. Maybe at some point, he can sleep without it. He isn't sure. Roadhog gives a slow sigh and closes his eyes, drifting off without too much trouble. Since Junkrat is sleeping so calmly, he feels more at ease than usual.

 

Even so, his dreams are a muddled mess of explosions, ruined buildings, blood. This is normal for him, and his eyes open without him being startled or without even so much as a gasp. He got used to all of this a long time ago, he's had time to adjust. Maybe he should be worried he can deal with it so well, that he's heading for some big breakdown or something. Everything is okay now though, and that's all that matters to him now.

 

His eyes land on his employer, still sleeping as peacefully as before he went to sleep himself. There's even a bit of drool, and considering he's had worse things on his skin it's amusing more than anything else. His hand is still on Junkrat's head, just resting on top of it. Roadhog scolds himself a little for leaving his hand there, however. Even if his dreams don't cause him nearly as much stress as Junkrat's cause him, there's still the chance something could happen.

 

As if to reassure himself it didn't, Roadhog gently smooths back the other's singed hair and contents himself with the fact Junkrat's head is still intact. He remains like this for some time, until he feels the Junker shift beneath his hand. There's an internal debate of whether or not he should stop, that he should remove his hand from the other's head. He doesn't make the decision quick enough however, and the other's eyes open with a tired groan.

 

The weight of Roadhog's hand on his head... It's different, but reassuring. He lifts his head up a little, blinking tiredly and looking at the other a few moments. Then he yawns, seeming almost ready to just go back to sleep. "Oi, Hogface... How'd ya sleep?" He asks, his voice tired and seeming more even than usual. Again, his voice sounds like it's coming from a different throat. He's always loud, and aside from that he doesn't typically ask a question like this.

 

"Fine... You seemed fine too." Came Roadhog's answer, and it was in the same sort of voice Junkrat remembers from before he fell asleep. It's so nice, so soothing. His bodyguard never struck him as someone who could be soothing. His bodyguard is a ruthless killer, cold and callous and dangerous... And yet here they are, cuddling like partners. It's... He doesn't know how to describe it really. It just feels really... Good. It feels good, feels natural almost.

 

"Well 'course I did, you're so damn comfy." Junkrat said with a laugh, one so different from his usual ear splitting cackle. It was the same kind of noise obviously, but it was like someone turned down the volume on it. It was a much gentler noise, and he figured it made sense. This was a gentle moment, the kind of laughing he does when he's busy blowing up some poor drongo really doesn't have a place here.

 

Roadhog laughs, his belly kind of making Junkrat bounce a bit with the action. After a moment he shifts to sit up, setting the other on the bed and getting up. He fetches the prosthetics from the table, helping the smaller Junker get them on before he stretches some. He feels stiff from being in the same place for however many hours Junkrat was asleep. As he moves he notices the other's eyes on him, and finds them almost... Admiring. Like the other is just taking him in and appreciating it.

 

It's different, but it certainly isn't bad.

 

"You ready for breakfast?" The larger of the two asks, starting to pack up what few things they had. They had been at this motel for too long, but if Junkrat was still sick he would find another. To his surprise however, his employer seems rested and renewed almost. Jamison gets up from the bed with almost a kind of bounce, a grin on his face and seeming like he was eager to get going. Employer like bodyguard, he didn't like staying one place for too long either.

 

" Well 'course I am, haven't eaten in three days. Let's go get some pancakes or somethin'." Junkrat says, aiding in gathering stuff up. He hears Roadhog give a snort, which he's sure was a bit of a laugh. It keeps his spirits up surprised by how high they are. He honestly still feels like shit, given he's scarcely kept anything down for three days but... He feels pretty good aside from that. That warmth is still in his chest, and it only gets stronger whenever he looks at his companion. He wonders if the other feels the same thing.

 

As they leave the room, Junkrat thinks he sees that smile again, hiding under that mask.


End file.
